Springtime Crime Page 3

  “And why you have my mom’s name and address on your desk,” George added.

  “Your mom is Louise Fayne?” Madame Withers asked. “She catered a party at my perfume store last week. She told me she loved my Rotting Roses scent.”

  “But she never smells like roses,” George said.

  “Pickles sometimes,” Bess added. “But only when she’s making coleslaw.”

  “She’ll smell like roses now,” Madame Withers said. “I mailed her a bottle a few days ago, so she must have just gotten it.”

  Madame Withers pointed to her desk and said, “I looked up your mom’s address online and wrote it on the pad.”

  It made sense to Nancy. But she still had a few questions. Before she could ask them, however, Madame Withers walked over to her newly filled bottles. While she capped them one by one, Nancy whispered to her friends.

  “How do we know for sure Madame Withers was here all night? Looking sleepy isn’t enough proof.”

  George began wiggling her nose. “Hey. Do you smell that?” she asked.

  “We smell a lot of stuff here,” Bess said. “We’re in a perfume factory, remember?”

  “It’s not perfume,” George said, still sniffing the air. “I think it’s . . . pizza.”

  Pizza? Nancy’s eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the cheesy smell. She spotted two empty-looking pizza boxes in the corner on the floor. But to Nancy, the boxes were a lot more than pizza!

  “You guys,” Nancy whispered, “I spy with my little eye—a clue!”

  EYE ON THE PIE

  “You mean the pizza boxes?” Bess whispered after following Nancy’s gaze.

  “I don’t smell a clue,” George said. “Just two greasy pizza boxes from 24-Hour Pizza—that smell a lot better than perfume, by the way!”

  “Shh!” Nancy whispered. She glanced over at Madame Withers. The perfume lady had stopped capping bottles to answer a phone, her back turned to the girls.

  “I’m thinking Madame Withers must have been working all night like she told us,” Nancy said softly.

  “Why?” Bess asked.

  “When we have all-night sleepovers, how many pizzas do we order?” Nancy said.

  “Usually two,” George replied.

  “Cheese and pepperoni,” Bess added.

  “So if we have two-box pizza sleepovers,” Nancy said, “Madame Withers must have had a two-box work-over!”

  “Two boxes of pizza for just one person?” Bess asked. “That’s a lot even for me.”

  “Lance might have been helping her,” Nancy said. “But how do we know the pizzas are from last night?”

  “Let’s see if there’s a leftover slice inside,” George suggested. “If it’s warm and gooey, it’s from this morning. If it’s cold and gunky, it’s from last night.”

  But when the girls opened both boxes, they found something better: two receipts stamped with dates and times. The first pizza had been ordered at midnight—the second at three o’clock in the morning!

  “Madame Withers was working all night,” Nancy decided. “And eating pizza too!”

  Madame Withers ended her call. As she turned to the girls, Nancy said, “We want to apologize for turning on your perfume maker, Madame Withers.”

  “And help you clean up,” Bess offered.

  “It’s no problem at all,” Madame Withers said kindly. “You girls have already helped me in a big, big way.”

  “How?” Nancy asked.

  “By bottling my new perfume!” Madame Withers said, gazing lovingly at their work. “And I think I smell a hit!”

  As they headed toward the door, George stopped to ask, “Madame Withers, where do you get so many wilted flowers?”

  “Oh, lots of different places. Sometimes I get them from Pierre, the peony poodle sculptor,” Madame Withers replied. “When flowers in his studio begin to wilt, he gives them to me.”

  She pointed to the sculpture of Miss LaLa and said, “Pierre gave me those wilted peonies over a week ago. They sure came in handy.”

  The girls thanked Madame Withers and Lance before leaving the building.

  “Madame Withers just gave us a clue,” Nancy pointed out. “Pierre would have lots of wilted flowers. He could have used them to switch the flowers on the hat.”

  Nancy crossed Madame Withers out of her clue book. Then she added the new clue about Pierre.

  “George, I’d like to go back to your house,” Nancy said as she shut her clue book, “and see where that trail of peony petals leads.”

  “Sure,” George said. “And while we’re there, I’d like to find out something too.”

  “What?” Nancy asked.

  “If my mom really does wear Rotting Roses perfume,” George said.

  Most of the peony petals were still on the grass when Nancy, Bess, and George reached the Fayne house. But just as they were about to follow the trail—

  WHOOOSH! A sudden gust of wind scattered the peony petals in all different directions!

  “There goes our trail.” Nancy sighed.

  “Gone with the wind.” Bess sighed too.

  “Hi, girls!” a voice called out.

  Nancy, Bess, and George turned to see Mrs. Fayne walking to her catering van in the driveway.

  “Where are you going, Mom?” George asked.

  “I just have to drive to the bank,” Mrs. Fayne answered. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait, Mom,” George said. “Before you go . . .”

  Nancy thought George was going to ask her mother about the rose perfume.

  Instead, George took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t lock the kitchen door yesterday. I must have been thinking about something else.”

  “But you did lock the door, George,” Mrs. Fayne said.

  “I did?” George asked, surprised. “Are you sure?”

  Mrs. Fayne nodded and said, “Very early this morning, while you were in bed, I remembered that the cupcakes were still on the windowsill. I went to the trailer to take them down.”

  As she opened the van door, Mrs. Fayne continued, “After I put the cupcakes on the table, I decided to take out the recycling. My hands were full, so I couldn’t lock the door on the way out.”

  “Didn’t you come back to lock it?” George asked.

  Shaking her head, Mrs. Fayne said, “I guess I forgot.”

  “Wow,” George said with a smile. “So that’s why the door was unlocked this morning.”

  “My bad!” Mrs. Fayne sighed. “By the way, did any of you eat one of my cupcakes yesterday?”

  “No,” Nancy, Bess, and George said together.

  “Well, that’s strange. . . .” Mrs. Fayne trailed off midthought as she climbed into the van. She slid the door shut, then called out the window, “I’ll be right back.”

  As Mrs. Fayne drove off, Bess patted George’s shoulder.

  “You locked the door yesterday, George,” she said happily. “Aren’t you glad you found that out?”

  “I also found out something else,” George said, wrinkling her nose. “That my mom really does wear Rotting Roses perfume. Did you smell that stuff?”

  “Yes,” Nancy said with a smile. She was glad that George hadn’t forgotten to lock the kitchen door. But it brought up another question.

  “If the door was locked all night,” Nancy said, “how did the peony switcher get inside the trailer?”

  The girls headed over to the trailer. George pointed up to the window, still open. “Maybe he or she climbed through there,” she suggested.

  “What’s this thing?” Bess asked.

  She picked up a card protected by a clear plastic cover. Attached to it was a clip.

  “It looks like someone’s photo ID,” Nancy said. “It says it’s from the botanical gardens.”

  “Then it might be your mom’s, George,” Bess said. “She’s been working on those parties for the flower show.”

  “Could be,” George said as she pointed to the card. “But since when is m
y mom’s name Benjamin Bing?”

  RAIN FOREST ROMP

  “It’s Ben’s ID card?” Nancy asked. She took the card from Bess and checked it out. Sure enough, the card had his name and picture.

  “What would Ben be doing outside my mom’s catering kitchen?” George asked. “And right under an open window?”

  “It’s not like Ben would want to switch the flowers on Miss LaLa’s hat,” Bess said.

  Nancy was about to agree, when she remembered something important. “Maybe Ben wanted to replace the ones he sprayed brown with fresh white ones.”

  “Ben said the flowers he used were the last from his parents’ greenhouse, too,” George remembered. “He could have been desperate.”

  “Ben could have seen the hat fall out of the bag,” Bess said. “Almost everybody in the greenhouse did.”

  “Ben knows where I live, too,” George said. “He sent me an invitation to his birthday party when I was about six.”

  “Was it fun?” Nancy asked.

  “If you like spinach and cauliflower birthday cake,” George said. She suddenly noticed something a few feet away. “Hey, look at that.”

  George gestured to a nearby crate. On the top was a kid-size sneaker print. “Ben could have used that to climb up to the window,” she said.

  Nancy checked out the sneaker print on the crate. All arrows seemed to be pointing to Benjamin Bing!

  “Let’s go to the botanical gardens right away,” Nancy said, “and talk to Ben.”

  The girls heard a rumble, and Mrs. Fayne drove up the driveway, back from her errand. She told them her next stop was the botanical gardens, to deliver some baked treats for the flower show the next day.

  “I baked too many flower cookies yesterday,” Mrs. Fayne said. “So help yourself to some in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” George said. “But can we go with you to the botanical gardens instead?”

  “Sure,” Mrs. Fayne said. “Any special reason?”

  “We have work to do too, Mrs. Fayne,” Nancy explained. “Detective work!”

  Mrs. Fayne was happy to drive the girls. Nancy, Bess, and George were happy for the ride.

  After parking the van, Mrs. Fayne carried baked goods to the botanical gardens’ party room. Nancy, Bess, and George made their way toward the greenhouse.

  The spring air was filled with the scent of wildflowers. As the girls passed a big white building with a domed roof, they saw Mayor Stone standing in front of the main entrance. He was wearing a fancy black top hat and was speaking to a crowd of people.

  “What’s going on over there?” George wondered.

  “It’s probably the opening ceremony for the tropical rain forest exhibit,” Nancy said.

  “You mean with the tropical bugs?” Bess said with a shiver. “Keep walking.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George did walk the short distance to the greenhouse. Once inside, they went straight to Ben’s cupcake sculpture. They were surprised to find it hidden behind a canvas curtain. A sign pinned to the curtain read UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

  “I’ll bet Ben is sticking Miss LaLa’s fresh white peonies into his sculpture right now,” George said angrily. “Why else would he be working in secret?”

  Suddenly Ben peeked out from behind the curtain, a temporary ID hanging around his neck. When he saw the girls, his jaw dropped.

  “Hi, Ben,” Nancy said. “We just want to—”

  “I didn’t mean it!” Ben cut in. “It was temporary insanity or too much sugar—I mean, quinoa!”

  He popped back behind the screen.

  “Was that just a confession?” Bess asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy said.

  Ben darted out from behind the curtain and headed toward the exit.

  “Stop him!” George cried.

  Nancy, Bess, and George squeezed through the crowd of visitors, following Ben.

  “I said I didn’t mean it!” Ben called back before racing out the door. The girls raced out after him. They chased him through gardens and around fountains and grassy animal topiaries.

  Ben kept the lead until the rain forest exhibit blocked his path. Mayor Strong was about to cut a ribbon held across the door by a park ranger and a guy in a parrot suit.

  “Thank you, Botanical Gardens,” Mayor Strong boomed, “for bringing a real tropical rain forest to River Heights!”

  “Raise the roof, raise the roof,” squawked the parrot. “Arrrrk!”

  The moment Mayor Strong snipped the ribbon, Ben dashed through the entrance.

  “Well, now,” Mayor Strong chuckled. “Someone can’t wait to visit our rain forest.”

  The mayor did not chuckle as Nancy, Bess, and George dashed in too. “Okay, what’s going on?” he demanded.

  The girls rushed through the exhibit, looking for Ben. Not only did it look like a rain forest, with its lush palm trees and exotic flowers, it felt like one too—hot and humid!

  “Does anyone see Ben?” Nancy asked.

  “Sorry,” Bess said, “I’m too busy watching for bugs!”

  Real-live tropical birds cawed from trees as the girls searched for their suspect. Suddenly Nancy heard a stomping noise like running feet. Turning, she saw Ben charging across a wooden bridge.

  “There he is!” Nancy shouted.

  The wooden bridge arched upward. Ben was just making his way to the peak when SLAM—he crashed into a ranger running from the other end.

  Ben yelped as he fell onto the planks of the bridge. A flurry of colorful round objects began rolling out of his pockets.

  “Gumballs and jelly beans!” Bess exclaimed.

  “Look out!” George cried as the candy rolled over the bridge in their direction.

  Ben lay frozen on the bridge, watching the girls stumble over spinning gumballs. But as the candy rolled to a stop—

  “Eee, eee, eeeeeee!”

  What was that?

  Nancy looked straight up and gasped. Dropping out of the tropical trees were—

  “Monkeys!!” Nancy cried.

  OODLES OF POODLES

  Nancy had never seen such tiny monkeys. They were practically the size of guinea pigs.

  “Whoa!” George cried. “The monkeys are scooping up the candy!”

  More chattering monkeys dropped down as Mayor Strong and the ranger raced over.

  “Cheese and crackers, Rosalie!” Mayor Strong cried. “I told the director of this exhibit not to have real live monkeys!”

  “They’re pygmy marmosets, actually,” Rosalie the ranger explained. “The smallest monkeys in the world.”

  “Small monkeys with huge appetites,” Mayor Strong groaned. “Let’s remove them before more guests come in.”

  The mayor turned to the girls and to Ben, who had returned from the bridge. “Sorry, but I think you kids had better go now. We’re closing the exhibit until it’s monkey-free.”

  As monkey handlers hurried over to collect the pygmy marmosets, Ben reached down for a gumball.

  “Eww, Ben, don’t eat that!” Bess cried. “It was in monkey hands!”

  “Yeah, Ben,” George said. “What were you thinking?”

  “That’s the problem!” Ben cried as he dropped the gumball. “When it comes to candy, I can’t think of anything else!”

  “We thought you only ate food from your parents’ health food store,” Nancy said. “So why were your pockets filled with candy?”

  “All that candy was from Peter Patino’s birthday party last week,” Ben explained. “My mom and dad never knew I snuck it home.”

  “So you secretly carry candy around?” Nancy asked.

  “Only when I’m not sneaking bites from cookies, cupcakes, or other yummy stuff,” Ben admitted.

  Nancy had no idea Ben had such a sweet tooth. But they were not there to talk about candy.

  “Speaking of sneaky, Ben,” Nancy said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the photo ID, “we found this outside the Faynes’ catering kitchen.”

  “So that’s where I l
ost it,” Ben sighed.

  “Then you did climb through the window into the kitchen?” Bess asked.

  “To replace the fresh peonies on Miss LaLa’s hat with the ones you sprayed brown?” Nancy asked.

  Ben shook his head. “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” he said. “I didn’t do any of that stuff.”

  “But we found your ID under the window,” Nancy said.

  “Tell us the truth, Ben,” Bess urged.

  George leaned over to Nancy and Bess. “You guys,” she murmured, “I think Ben is telling the truth.”

  “How do you know?” Nancy whispered.

  Instead of answering, George turned to Ben and asked, “Is that the same jacket you wore yesterday?”

  Ben nodded and said, “Yes. Why?”

  George pointed to a yellow-and-green stain on the front of Ben’s jacket and said, “That tells me you weren’t at my house for the switcheroo—but the snackeroo!”

  “Snackeroo?” Nancy repeated.

  “What does that mean?” Bess asked.

  “My mom’s cupcakes on the windowsill had yellow-and-green icing,” George explained. “Just like the stain on Ben’s jacket.”

  “Oh, man,” Ben groaned under his breath.

  “Remember how my mom asked if we ate one of her cupcakes yesterday?” George asked. “She must have meant one of the cupcakes was missing!”

  “Ben?” Nancy asked, raising one eyebrow. “Did you sneak up to the window yesterday to grab a cupcake?”

  “It was only one cupcake!” Ben insisted. “When George said her mom had some cooling on the windowsill, I had to have one.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George traded looks. Each of them knew what the others were thinking. Ben did not switch the peonies on Miss LaLa’s hat.

  “Can I have my ID back now?” Ben asked.

  “As soon as you tell us something else,” Nancy said.

  “Now what?” Ben sighed.

  Nancy smiled and asked, “What did you do with all the peonies you sprayed brown?”

  “Follow me!” Ben said, smiling too.

  Nancy, Bess and, George followed Ben back to the greenhouse. He pulled open the curtain and—